


Standing in the Rain

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-29
Updated: 2010-10-29
Packaged: 2019-05-30 09:10:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15093650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: Josh comes to Donna's apartment demanding answers about Cliff; post-ep to War Crimes.





	Standing in the Rain

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

It was freezing out side; he could see his breath as he stood there. Yet, even when it started to rain, he didn’t move. The rain blew at him sideways, it soaked through his clothes and his shoes, his fingers were red, and his hair was plastered to his face and neck; still he stood there. He had told her it would be ok. He told himself he wouldn’t be angry anymore, that it wasn’t her fault, that she didn’t do it to hurt him. Any of it. Yet, here he stood, at two o’clock in the morning in the rain in November, staring at her apartment, furious, hurt, tired, confused, beat, and soaking wet. His hands were shaking, not from the weather, but from the paper he was holding.

He had been there for over an hour; willing himself to either go in or go home, at this point, it didn’t really matter which. Still, he couldn’t make himself do either, so he stood and waited. The lights were off, of course. He had dropped her off three hours ago, patting her leg and telling her it was over. She hadn’t cried, hadn’t apologized again, she merely whispered ‘thank you’ before closing the door. Then he had started home, making it all of three blocks before he pulled into an empty parking lot and stared at the envelope. The envelope with the two days in it. The envelope he told her he would lock in his safe in case he ever came back to get them. The envelope he told her he wouldn’t open. The envelope that he thought would contain the answers he had to have.

In the end, he had opened it. He read it there in that parking lot after telling himself not to for an hour and a half. And as he read it, her private memories, he hated himself, and he hated her, and as much as ever, he loved her. Without thinking, he got out of the car and jogged the three blocks back to her apartment to confront her. How could she do this to him?

Someone walked out of her building, and without thinking, he grabbed the door before it shut all the way. He stood dripping in the foyer for a few minutes, telling himself to turn and leave, but as he stood there, he thought of him. Had she simply let him in without question or regard? Had she thought it through and decided the hell with her loyalties? Did she know then what it would do to them, to him? 

The more he thought, the angrier he became, and he took off up the three flights of stairs that led to her apartment. When he arrived outside her door, he had banged as loudly as he could and called out her name over and over until his voice was horse and she finally answered the door in flannel pajamas. Had she worn that when she answered the door for him?

She didn’t say anything when she answered; she just took in his appearance. His eyes were bloodshot, he was soaking wet, and the look he gave her was a mix of hatred, anger, and pain. They stared at each other for over a minute before she looked down into his right hand and saw the pages of her diary, crumpled and wet.

She fought back tears and looked at him with the same face he held on her. If he was trying to get her back for what she had done, he had succeeded ten-fold. She was tempted to slam the door and never speak to him again; instead she whispered, “You promised.”

“You fucked him,” he replied in a barely controlled voice, staring directly into her eyes.

She gasped at his words; he might as well have hit her. “You already knew that, you bastard. Now leave.”

“Why? Why did you have to fuck him? Why did you do that to me?” he asked, taking a step in her apartment but going no further.

She took three steps back. “I didn’t do anything to you,” she screamed.

He turned and closed the door, and then turned back and yelled just as loud as her. “The hell you didn’t. Why did you fuck him?”

She held his gaze and said in a steely tone. “You read it, you tell me.” 

“Why?” he said through gritted teeth. He had to understand. She had to explain it to him. He had to know.

“Leave,” she spit back at him.

“Why?” he yelled again.

“Because he wanted to,” she yelled. “Does that make you happy? He wanted to. He kissed me and touched me and said nice things to me. And he wanted to be with me, and I said yes.” She took a deep breath and stared at him.

“And you think I don’t?” he screamed as he took a step towards her. “You think I don’t want to touch you or kiss you or be with you? You think I don’t want to know what you feel like under me, or on top of me, or surrounding me? That a single hour goes by that I don’t question whether this job, this man, is worth not being with you? That part of me doesn’t want to lose this election so we can be together? That for even one minute of the day I don’t want to hold you? That I’ve never had to stop myself from telling you how much I love you? Is that what you think?” 

She stared at him, stunned, as tears fell from her eyes, but didn’t say a word.

He lowered his voice and took another step towards her. “Tell me, Donna. Did he want to touch you as badly as I do? Does he dream of how you must feel, like me? Did he touch you like you’re the most beautiful woman in the world? Because that’s how you should be touched Donna, do you know that? And was his kiss everything, the way ours would be? Did it possess you and cling to you and search you all at the same time? And did he make love to you the way I would? Did he adore you and need you? Did he give you everything he was and everything he would ever be? Did he tell you over and over that you’re amazing, that he loved you, that he would never leave you? Because that’s what I would do, Donna. That’s how I would love you."

She stood sobbing and shaking, taking ragged breaths, tears soaking her face. “Then why don’t you?”

“Because I can’t.” She took a step toward him, took his hand in her own and brought it towards her face. “Don’t,” he said, pulling his hand away and taking a step back. 

“Why?” she whispered.

Finally, tears fell from his eyes. “Because one touch, one night with you… it would never be enough. You have no idea how badly I want to wipe those tears off your face, how badly I want to carry you into your room and make you forget all about him, how badly I want hold you and kiss you and feel your body pressed to mine. But if I did… Donna, I could never let you go.”

“You don’t have to let me go,” she said and took another step towards him. Again, he took a step back.

“What? I should hold you? I should let them call you a whore? Watch them drag your name through mud? Let them lie about you? If you quit, if I quit, even if I transfer you, you’re still the young blonde tramp who slept her way into the White House.”

“I could handle it,” she said and took another step towards him.

He backed up, until he was against the door. “I couldn’t. Why do you think I made that deal with him? I would do anything to keep you from being hurt, anything. It kills me that the way to protect you is to stay away from you… but that is the way, and so I do it.”

“But…” she drifted off, sobbing again. She reached for him and he closed his eyes as her palm made contact with his cheek. 

“Please don’t,” he whispered and she reluctantly took her hand away. 

“But…” she choked out. “Being apart from you is what hurts me most of all.”

“I know,” he said, opening his eyes and putting his hand over his mouth. “I know it hurts, but it’s the only way… it’s the only way.”

“Don’t do this, Josh. Please don’t do this. Don’t give up on us,” she begged him.

He leaned his head back against the door. “I’m not giving up on us. I can’t. You’re my entire reason for breathing. I’m going to find a way. I don’t know when, and I don’t know how. But I’m not going to give up on us.”

“Promise?”

Tears started falling from his eyes again. “I broke the promise I made to you earlier.”

“You won’t break this one.”

“I promise.”

“I love you,” she said quietly.

He took a step towards her, until they were inches from each other, and leaned over until his mouth was right next to her ear. “I love you too,” he whispered. “Always.” Then he turned and walked out the door and back into the rain.


End file.
